The TTC in bed with Ashley Madison? Heavens to murgatroyd! No one ever says that anymore. It’s a shame, really. Snagglepuss must be rolling over in his grave. But I digress.
The TTC has been linked to Ashley Madison, a website whose official slogan is “Life is short. Have an affair.” Specifically, Ashley Madison is crying foul over the TTC’s rejection of a contract that would have wrapped several streetcars in Ashley Madison advertising. Even more specifically, the streetcars would have the company’s slogan plastered along either side. It’s a deal that would put at least $250,000 in the TTC’s pockets, which are presently empty and hanging inside-out with moths flying about. Talk radio (the social barometer by which all issues are measured… what are you going to do about it, social media?) was all a-twitter this morning (see what I did there?) over the issue, with Torontonians evenly divided on whether it’s a good idea. Here are some arguments floating around:
Having Ashley Madison advertise on the TTC will encourage deviant behaviour and drive people to cheat on their significant others – First off, if someone in a relationship is debating cheating, that relationship is already in trouble. Second, if someone in a relationship decides to go ahead and cheat, they will do so regardless of what they see on the side of a bus. Life isn’t a movie where epiphanies are had standing on snowy street corners staring at signs on streetcars.There seems to be little uproar over the EYE or NOW magazines available free at most TTC stations, which openly advertise sexual services from prostitutes and escorts, and feature NSA (no-strings attached) ads from ordinary people looking for casual sex. In fact, there is likely a greater probability that you’re safer meeting someone from Ashley Madison for casual yet intimate encounters, rather than from the back pages of a free newspaper.
How will parents explain to children viewing the ad the notion of having an affair? – Good parents will think of something. If not, maybe we should look at banning the word “sex” from advertising, though that would probably cut out 50% of all ads. Maybe we should also make sure women in ads all wear ankle-length skirts and cover their shoulders, in case children ask about breasts or shapely legs. Oh, we should also ban ads where it looks like people are driving fast, in case it leads to speed racing. We should also ban the movie Speed Racer. Speaking of movies, don’t they have words in their titles like kill and death and violence and war? Let’s look at banning those as well. I’m pretty sure I once saw an ad that asked people not to smoke, and that may have a reverse-psychology effect on children, so that’s banned as well.The annoying point I’m making here is that you cannot shield your children from everything, and more importantly, your children aren’t as interested in these things as parents believe. They don’t possess the breadth of experience and knowledge to properly process the meaning of and beliefs behind, say, an affair. They learn the surface meaning and move on.
If Ashley Madison can advertise, why not cigarette companies? Alcohol? Gaming? – What if Marlboro put up a website, and asked people to join and create profiles. They could interact online with other people interested in Marlboros, and maybe even meet up in person. And when they met in person, they would each bring some cigarettes and smoke up a storm together. It’s a lousy – and copyrighted – idea, but bear with me. Marlboro wouldn’t be pushing cigarettes in that case. Sure, they may be encouraging their use, but they would really just be acting as a facilitator between two parties with mutual interests. If they hadn’t met through Marlboro’s website, they might have met nine feet outside the front doors to their office.If someone is going to cheat, they will cheat. Seeing an ad won’t compel anyone who hasn’t already made that decision. What’s more, Ashley Madison only acts as a third party. If not them, then EYE or NOW or Craigslist or Kijiji or any other number of sources.
By now you should see where I stand on the issue. The TTC is in need of money and Ashley Madison is more than happy to fork some over. But ethics and morals prevent the TTC from accepting. Has it forgotten the fact that in 2007, it was happy to take on the controversy of posting ads promoting atheism and the lack of God? Two years can be a long time when you’re raising fares and failing to meet the evolving infrastructure of the city which you serve.
Even if the TTC ultimately does reject having Ashley Madison’s ads plastered on what probably amounts to less than 1% of their streetcar fleet (for $250,000, did I mention that?), this should open a discussion for more advertising on the TTC to subsidize some of its costs.
Anyone who’s been on the Metro in Paris, the Underground in London, the New York subway, the Hong Kong subway and many other transit systems can attest to a plethora of ads. In New York and Paris, there is an ad every few feet. They are inescapable but not intolerable; rather they are a part of the urban underground landscape. Blending into the walls of the transit system as passers-by scurry by, they also give companies a chance to be edgy, creative and try to grab people’s attention. Volkswagen is a perfect example.
Finally, in a brilliant PR move, Ashley Madison has also announced it will have reduced fares on TTC vehicles bearing their ad, should their contract be approved. I don’t know if that’s realistic, but they’ve managed to hit a note that resonates with every citizen of Toronto, regardless of their stance on the morality of the issue: Your wallets are suffering, and we want to help. In effect, they’ve told Toronto that they will subsidize the TTC and they will subsidize TTC riders, but the TTC won’t let them. Touché, Ashley Madison.
Bottom line: The TTC needs financial help. If they don’t accept it from Ashley Madison, let this issue lead to an improved resolution on advertising on the TTC in order to offset operating costs. Higher ad revenues mean lower fares and a better system. Toronto deserves that much.
What do you think? Would you allow this? Details, please…
Three weeks. It’s been three weeks since I was last home. A lot happens to a man in three weeks. His whole life can change in three weeks. Mine did.
Three weeks ago, discreetly invited by Matchstick for a private scotch-tasting event, I strode into One Hazelton, a trendy restaurant in Toronto’s Yorkville district. The staff greeted me by name and took my coat, not an uncommon occurrence. After a quick glass of brandy with the manager – and a lively, though abbreviated, discussion on the merits of a program proactively providing guests with a choice of “dates” for the evening – I was ushered into a private room toward the back. Lined with tables, the room was buzzing with activity, and I found myself sitting among the most influential members of the city’s online community. A little out of place, I felt like Number 6 in the Village. But with a scotch in hand, and several more on the table before me, I was prepared for a hard night’s work.
Within an hour, I had devoured no less than six glasses of fine Macallan scotch… 10-year old Macallan, 12-year old, 15-year old, 21-year old. I couldn’t stop myself. A presentation on the Macallan brand and its history described in great detail its methods of barreling and aging. Our affable host then held up a small vial of clear liquid, explaining it was Macallan scotch aged only one day. I never imagined such imbibitions existed.
Fuelled by scotch, alcohol raging through my veins, I leapt to my feet and bolted toward the front of the room. Racing toward our host, I zeroed in on the panic in his ever-widening eyes. Swooping in, I grabbed the small vial of day-old scotch, opened it and drank it down, all in one quick motion.
Indescribable. It’s the only way to describe the feeling. It was the fix I’d been searching for my entire life. Standing there, all eyes affixed on me with looks of fear and contempt sweeping across the sea of faces like a tidal wave, I felt invincible. Unleashing an other-worldly roar, my voice sounded like nothing I’d ever heard in the natural universe. Men and women around me began to sob, quivering with fear as I felt the scotch coursing through my body.
I quickly grabbed the bottle of 21-year old Macallan scotch from our host’s paralyzed arms, as he stood transfixed by what I’d become. Within 20 seconds, I had gulped down two-thirds of the bottle, and shattered it on the table before me. Holding half the broken bottle, dripping with sweet, sweet scotch, I saw myself start swinging wildly. People climbed over one another to get out of my way, crying and screaming madly as they dove for cover. Men were even throwing women in my way in order to save themselves. Cowards. Before long, I found myself outside. Snarling and frothing at the mouth, I had managed to get away with several bottles of each Macallan scotch before I escaped the claustrophobia of that crowd, the negative energy affecting my scotch-fuelled spree of sin.
The next few weeks, I traveled across the globe in a scotch-induced stupor. Using my considerable resources and delusional judgment, I destroyed anything in my path. While in Morocco, half a bottle of 12-year old scotch preceded the severe beating I administered to a camel and its owner after it spit in the vicinity of my Nike dunks. After a stern warning to the camel’s owner, he mumbled some anti-Semitic remarks under his breath. I used the remaining half-bottle of booze to light the fire to heat the branding iron I needed to brand his forehead with a Star of David. Then I kicked his ass. And that of his camel.
Climbing the mountains of Nepal, I was enlightened after sharing two bottles of 18-year old Macallan scotch with a clan of Buddhist monks. Having spent the previous six years in complete silence, we communicated through an intricate series of hand-gestures, eye-movements and breathing patterns. They considered me a deity, and I shared with them the warmth and comfort of Macallan scotch. In return, they taught me karmic self-control, and the deadly ancient martial arts. I hadn’t the heart to tell them I was already well-versed in both.
Sailing the Black Sea, I boarded a stolen ship crawling with Somali pirates. After a few bottles of Macallan 15-year old scotch, and a violent but rousing game of Backgammon, I surprised my hosts by physically overpowering the entire crew, one by one. After returning the ship to its rightful owners, I stole a helicopter from a Greek military base and, before long, touched down in Haiti.
Having saved the best for last, I quickly consumed half my remaining stash upon landing – three bottles of 21-year old Macallan. My killing power increased exponentially, I staged a one-man bloody coup and seized control of the island within a day. Once my buzz faded, I grew weary of the responsibilities associated with running a brutal dictatorship and decided to return home.
I built a crude rocket of only monkey bones, coconut shells and palm fronds. Using just one ounce of 21-year old Macallan scotch, I was able to fuel my vessel across the horizon and back to Toronto. With only two bottles remaining, I decided to sacrifice them for the good of this blog posting, and finished them both before sitting down to recount my adventures.
Three weeks. That’s all it took for Macallan scotch to change my life. Thank you Macallan. (and thank you Mark Twain)
Please be sure to check out this quick survey about The Macallan scotch. A $2 donation goes to Redwood Women’s Shelter for each survey filled out. What are you waiting for? An angry woman to beat the hell out of you?
Apparently, traffic congestion in the region costs the entire country of Canada $3.3 billion in lost productivity each year. This comes as a result of several factors:
Urban sprawl
A disjointed public transit system
Decades of underinvestment in public transit by Ottawa
We sit in traffic, unproductive and idle. Meanwhile, our idling cars emit noxious gases into the atmosphere, decaying the ozone layer and lining lungs everywhere with air pollution. And that’s just in Toronto.
If we’re to be more productive in our cars, Ontario erred in passing a law restricting the usage of cell phones in automobiles. That is also notwithstanding the fact that if the provincial government were serious about its efforts to keep drivers’ “eyes on the road and hands on the wheel,” it would have completely banned cell phone usage while driving. After all, according to the Ministry of Transport, “driver distraction is a factor in 20 per cent of all road accidents.” But I digress.
I’m not even quite sure what kind of productivity we are expected to produce while driving, but whatever it is must surely be easier done with a phone in hand.
The fact is, if we are to be more productive in our cars, Ontario erred in passing the law restricting the usage of cell phones in automobiles. If the aim is to increase productivity while driving (which also defeats the purpose of attempting to eliminate driver distraction), let us use cell phones.
Better still, offer us a reasonable alternative to driving.
Realistically, the TTC is not a reasonable alternative to driving. Nor is any public transit system in Toronto, as the OECD notes that “transit service in the Toronto Census Metropolitan Area has not kept pace with population growth.”
Don’t tell us to use the TTC. Instead, make it more attractive to potential riders. Transit City is on the right track, though light years behind, and – given the bureaucracy inherent in Toronto and the TTC – indefinitely ongoing. Hell, I’d sit through 10 years of traffic congestion, construction, and closed roads if it meant my kids would grow up with a transit system on par with those in New York, Hong Kong or London.
We don’t want to be told to use the TTC, we want to want to use the TTC.
This afternoon’s Toronto Star has a story about the Toronto Raptors, the Toronto Maple Leafs and their farm team, the Toronto Marlies, and how they may have “jumped the line,” already receiving H1N1 vaccinations. This comes on the heels of a similar controversy with Calgary’s NHL team, the Flames. Ontario’s Health Minister Deb Matthews is, apparently, outraged at the situation in Toronto, and deemed it “unacceptable“.
The reason it’s at all an issue is the Ontario government received a limited supply of the vaccination – enough to immunize 2.2 million people – and expects to run out by the end of this week (that’s tomorrow… To The Clinics! Swarm! Swarm!). That said, the province set out strict regulations prioritizing groups to be inoculated with the first wave of medicine: pregnant women, children between six months and less than five years of age, people under the age of 65 with chronic conditions, and those living in remote communities.
My question is this: Is the issue here really NHL players receiving preferential treatment and early vaccinations?
It seems to me this is an opportunity for the Ontario government to distract the media and the public from their own bungling of the vaccinations and “priority groups” by bringing up the age-old argument of wealth and status giving way to said preferential treatment. The public rarely sympathizes with millionaire athletes, and likely even less so in the face of a mass pandemic. Still, athletes have been receiving top-shelf, preferential medical treatment for decades now. Why should it be any different in this case?
The people writing the government’s messaging surely are aware of this, and strategically used it to craft a message positioning the sad-sack Maple Leafs as the bad guys here, while the government strives to deliver vaccinations to the general public. Haven’t the Leafs suffered enough this young season? Now they’re villainous vaccination pirates, stealing life-saving inoculations from the arms of women, children and the elderly? Give me a break.
Ontario, Deb Matthews, City of Toronto, and all your respective communication departments: Concentrate on the real issues affecting your constituents, citizens and stakeholders. Stop creating controversy where there is none and instead focus your efforts on improving the situation.
Now, while the on-ice product may have you fooled, the Toronto Maple Leafs actually have no players in the priority group for vaccination. Just for fun though…
Thursday, October 1, 2009. Toronto Maple Leafs fans have had this day circled on their calendars since the Leafs’ inglourious end to the 2008-09 NHL season. Over the course of the off-season, GM Brian Burke and Assistant GM Dave Nonis have retooled the Leafs, supposedly transforming them into a tough and truculent team. We shall see. Today, with a day left before the official start of the 2009-10 NHL season, Toronto fans have already been promised they’ll see the Leafs in the playoffs for the first time in four years, and there is a considerable buzz around the team. Of course, in Toronto, every year is The Year.
In honour of the Leafs’ annual ineptitude and their fans’ annual irrational optimism, a few Leaf jokes to start the season. Feel free to leave your own. Or you can just steal these. That’s what I did. Sorry Dean Blundell Show. (i’m not really sorry)
Q. Where is the red-light district located in Toronto? A. Behind the Leafs’ net.
Q. What do the Toronto Maple Leafs, Toronto Raptors and Toronto Blue Jays all have in common? A. They all wish they could play hockey.
Q. What happens when Hamilton gets a Bona Fide NHL team? A. Toronto will want one too.
Q. What does a Leafs fan do after Toronto wins the Stanley Cup? A. Turns off his Xbox.
Even if the TTC ultimately does reject having Ashley Madison’s ads plastered on what probably amounts to less than 1% of their streetcar fleet (for $250,000, did I mention that?), this should open a discussion for more advertising on the TTC to subsidize some of its costs.
